Reasons to Believe in a Benevolent Deity #101

January 11, 2009 by

— The Fortuitous Return of Lost Things —

Our story begins, dear reader, with our heroine’s need to dispatch a
couple of important errands the like of which required the attendance
at a branch of the BNZ (that’s the Bank of New Zealand for our foreign
readers) and the Post Office (which I believe is unlikely to require
translation).

It seemed sensible to park the car between the two venues which were
separated by a distance of about 500 metres and this done, she
proceeded first to the BNZ where the required deposit was made to
ensure that her life insurance was up to date and then to the Post
Office where a disc of photos was sent to her aunt documenting the
family party on New Years Eve. In all, this took probably a total of 20
minutes, once the distance was walked and the queues endured. The
errands were duly done and the last on the long list of jobs to be done
while on holiday was finally sealed up.

However, it was upon leaving the Post Office that our heroine realised
that she no longer appeared to be in possession of the car keys. A
dilemma in anyone’s books, but particularly disconcerting as the
alternate set of keys were some 1127 kilometres (700 miles) away in
possession of the car’s actual owner on holiday herself in the town of
Ashburton.

It is no small thing to have a spare, to be sure… but for it to be so
far away was a challenge in that a) the car was parked on a busy main
road and would be towed if left too long and b) the car was our
heroine’s means of transport to the airport at 3.15am on Sunday to be
left there to in return to be the means of its owner’s transportation
home from the airport at 4pm later that day. No question, the car
needed to be accessible BEFORE then or all manner of costs would
accrue…

Without deferring to an initial position of panic a quick pivot on
one’s heel was executed to go back to the Post Office to collect the
item which was surely left on the counter only minutes before…

Er…

That being so it seemed logical instead to duck back to the bank to collect them then from there…

Er…

And so, back to the Post Office, via the car to make sure they hadn’t
been left inside… a situation which would not have been ideal but
would have been better then than not being able to get to them at
all…

Er…

It is at this point that the exclamations started to get a bit more
agitated, when a few of them had a panicky edge and which alternated
between, “Oh shit, what am I going to do if they don’t show up?” and
“Oh God, please get me out of this mess!”.

Breathing deeply our heroine went once more to the Post Office,
scanning every bit of pavement on the way in case it transpired that
they had in fact, been dropped from her hand/pocket/purse… still no
luck.

The Post Office employees were alternately concerned to see her
reappear and helpful in turning the public areas upside down in the
hope they would appear… and all areas where she had stepped were duly
retraced, the package she had posted was also reopened just in case
they’d been posted across town… still no luck.

Finally, giving up, the poor girl asks the Postal Officer for a pen and
paper and writes down her contact details, just in case someone comes
in with them… a faint hope… and she starts a text message to her
sister, one that started with “Don’t Panic”… (another faint hope, as
it happens) and just as she did the door opened and a man with a
Canadian sounding voice approached the counter asking,

“Have you had anyone come in looking for their keys? I’m embarrassed to
admit I picked them up and put them in my pocket absently thinking they
were mine!”…

Our relieved heroine turned to the older gentleman and took them from
his hand confessing that she was torn between kissing him and crying
her eyes out (but did neither) and walked out the door with him
thanking him profusely as she did… and uttered a prayer of thanks and
a huge sigh of relief returning to the car and hurried home for a stiff
drink and a breather.

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Comments

I can so hear you saying “oh Shit, Oh Help!” LMAO!!! Having lost my own keys on Sunday morning, I have a fair idea of how you felt… in fact, now I think about it…. I lost my Dad’s keys in much the same fashion in Chch a few Christmases ago. Turned out I left them in the music shop after admiring several flutes. Typical.